


Wonderful Tonight

by Kirito_Potter



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, First Time, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Sex Magic, Simon Snow's Wings and Tail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 11:18:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18467872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirito_Potter/pseuds/Kirito_Potter
Summary: I grin, pushing him down onto the bed. I straddle his hips, but I'm sitting far enough back that I'll be able to take off his jeans.He laughs a little. “Excited, Snow?”I don't have any dignity to protect. “Extremely.”





	Wonderful Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of a followup to my last fic, but they can obviously be read separately since it's all PWP.

**Baz**

It's his smile that makes me say it.

“Simon, I… I want you. I want you so much. I have for a long time.” We have the flat to ourselves, and he's already sitting in my lap, hair tousled and mouth shining.

His eyes widen. “You want me as in… as in sex?”

It's a good thing he's cute. “Yes. As in sex.” I bite my lip. “I don’t just want to be your first, I want to be your one and only.”

He nods slowly, thinking. “That sounds… good. Yeah.”

I don't realise what he said at first. “Wait. That's it? ‘That sounds good’?”

He frowns. “Was I supposed to say no?”

“No! I mean-- I expected you to think it over a little more.”

He’s grinning at me. “It's so like you to overthink everything. Of course I want to.”

I smile. “You’re sure?”

“Yes!” he giggles. “I’m sure. I'll say it a hundred times if you need me to.”

I nod, swallowing. “Okay.” I laugh. “Okay!”

 

**Simon**

I grin, pushing him down onto the bed. I straddle his hips, but I'm sitting far enough back that I'll be able to take off his jeans.

He laughs a little. “Excited, Snow?”

I don't have any dignity to protect. “Extremely.”

He pushes himself up on his elbows to kiss me quickly, then falls back onto the mattress, smiling. “Love you.” He's slightly flushed.

“I love you too,” I whisper.

His eyes are shining.

I brush his hair back. I love it when he doesn't bother with the gel or charms, just lets it fall loosely. “You're gonna love this, okay? I know it.”

“I have zero doubt,” he reassures me, taking my hand.

I nod, determined. “Well, you will love it. I'm making sure of that.”

He raises an eyebrow playfully. “Oh? Prove it, then.”

I growl, tugging at the hem of his shirt. He lets me pull it over his head and toss it to the floor. I don't look to see where it lands.

He's so fucking fit. I lean down and lick his abs.

He chuckles, and his hands are in my hair again. That always happens at some point. The playing with my hair. I can't tell if he knows how much I like the pull on my scalp, or if he just thinks it's soft.

I drag my tongue up his torso, until I can pull one of his nipples into my mouth. He groans quietly, relaxing under me. Even as I'm swirling my tongue around it, I slip my hand down to unbutton his jeans. (I'm starting to wonder if he wears them on purpose. It seems like he's always wearing jeans when I go down on him, and at this point I doubt it's a coincidence.)

Once I pull his zipper open, I look down, expecting to see his cock straining against his pants, but he's barely half-hard.

I glance up at him, putting on a dejected expression. “Baz, I'm not sure you really want this. By now, you're usually straight as a rod.”

“Oh, believe me, I'm never straight.” (I can't help but laugh.) “In all honesty, I might need some…” he grins. “Encouragement?”

I feel my tail thrashing violently behind me, and his smile widens.

I'm more than happy to slide his pants off. His cock slaps against his stomach, and I groan. It's almost like an out-of-body experience when I lean down and lick it from base to tip. And really, if I'm going to use my tongue, I might as well take the whole head. He squirms, pulling my hair a little, and I moan around his cock.

Judging by the way it's actually twitching in my mouth, this is exactly the kind of encouragement he needed. And luckily for me, I'll do practically anything to get my mouth on Baz's dick.

I lick his slit, shuddering when I'm rewarded with precome. He shudders too, throwing an arm over his eyes. I press my tongue there again, reveling in the salty taste. When I swallow around the head, he gasps. I think I could do this all day.

 

**Baz**

Bloody hell, Simon. I never should have let him figure out how to give head, because he only gets better at it every time. At this rate, I'm not sure I'll last more than a couple of minutes.

“Simon,” I rasp.

He doesn't pause his ministrations, just hums in acknowledgement, and I moan.

“Simon… wait…”

He stops, pulling his mouth off. I lift my arm, and his lips are already bright red.

“Is something wrong?” He asks, looking worried.

I sigh. “No, that's-- it's fantastic, Si. It always is.”

He's glowing with pride. (I think he really does get off on compliments. Praise kinks are common enough, I suppose.)

“I just-- if you don't slow down, I'm not going to last much longer.”

His eyebrows pull together. “Isn't that the point?”

What a gorgeous idiot. “It's called foreplay for a reason, Simon. We get worked up and then we move on to the… main course.” I wince. I'm terrible at dirty talk.

He frowns, playing with a thread on his shirt. “Oh. I was kind of hoping you'd come in my mouth.”

I flush (as best I can). Does he not know what subtlety means? “Simon, I thought you wanted to… ah…”

He nods energetically. “I do. I really do.”

“Well, I can't do both,” I explain patiently.

This only confuses him more. “What do you mean? I suck you off, then we have sex. It's really not very complicated.”

I sigh, running my hand through his curls. “I don't have that kind of refractory period.”

He pouts. “Well, next time, then.” He seems genuinely upset by this. Like not being able to swallow my come is ruining his day.

I close my eyes and think. Didn't I hear something about this? Some kind of trick.

Before I can remember it, he's got his mouth on my cock again.

“Merlin,” I grunt. “What happened to next time?”

He pulls back just enough to reply, “Just getting a last taste,” then dives back down to flicker his tongue on my slit.

I desperately lace my fingers in his hair, doing my best to hold on.

The answer hits me like a bucket of cold water, and I scramble for my wand on the bedside table. (The wand not in Simon's mouth.)

“ **Candle in the wind!** ” It seems like my magic doesn't care that it was more moaning than speaking, because it's washing over me. I've heard some refer to it as a stamina spell, but that makes it sound like it keeps you from coming early. This is much better.

I succumb to Simon's tongue, managing only a “I'm--” in warning.

He moans unabashedly, the way he always does when I come in his mouth. I can see his Adam's apple bobbing frantically.

After a moment, I sigh, melting into the pillows. “Simon…”

He licks his lips, grinning like the cat that caught the canary. “You surprised me. I could have made a mess, you know.”

The mental image of Simon drenched in my come makes my cock twitch back to life. The spell did work, then.

He gapes at it. “What happened to that refractory period you were complaining about?”

I smirk, raising an eyebrow. “There are some perks to being a mage.”

His face lights up. “That's-- that's amazing!” He laughs, glancing between me and my dick. “Does that mean-- does that mean we can still--”

I nod. “If you're up for it.”

He smiles at me like I'm a god. (Ridiculous. He's the one who deserves a following.) “Absolutely.”

I sit up to kiss him. He tastes salty, of course. I don't mind. He shifts in my lap to grab hold of my hips, and I smile against his mouth.

I carefully flip us over so I can straddle him instead. The friction on my cock is a little overwhelming, and I have to pause to catch my breath.

He's still fully dressed. That won't do. I pull his shirt off quickly, throwing it onto the floor alongside my own. I take half a second to appreciate his toned muscles, but I have more important things to get to. I move my hands down, to where he's so hard the zipper on his trousers is sticking up. I pull it down and help him out of them, tossing them as well. I do the same with my jeans. Now we're both in our pants, but the front of mine are pulled down. I slip them off as quickly as I can, since they're not doing much good, and pull him into another kiss.

Simon whines pitifully, pulling back and giving me a look clearly asking me to take his pants off. He could do it himself, easily, but he's giving me control. He's complaining, but in reality he's allowing it. If I say the pants stay on, the pants stay on. It's enough to make my mouth water.

As much as I'd like to test the limits of my control over him, I also really want him naked. I tug them off swiftly, and now we match. He's beautiful, as always. Tanned (even darker skin here, flushed prettily) and full, straining for the ceiling. I press a quick kiss to the head, but I don't trust myself to do much more than that. (He insists my fangs aren't a problem, but that's a question for another day.) The kiss is enough to make his toes curl, and he giggles above me.

I kiss him on the lips this time, pushing him to the mattress.

He yelps, pushing me off him and sitting up again.

“I'm sorry,” I say quickly, although I'm not sure what I did wrong.

Simon winces and reaches back to massage his wing. “It's okay,” he mumbles. “Wings aren't really helpful for pushing someone onto a bed.”

“Should--” I hesitate. “Do you want me to be the one who--”

He looks up, wide-eyed. “What? No! I-- I just needed some warning, that's all!” He offers me a lopsided smile. “I want this. Don't worry.”

I nod and push him down again, gently this time. He has time to spread his wings against the sheets now, and he looks like an angel.

I lean down and kiss him. I can't seem to stop kissing him today. He lifts a hand to the back of my neck, sighing quietly.

Getting on my hands and knees, I push a hand into his hair. He smiles a bit. I slip a knee between his thighs, and he shifts so his feet are flat on the mattress. When I pull back from the kiss, he's blushing.

I reach for my wand again. “ **Slippery as an eel.** ” My fingers are instantly coated in something wet and cold. Simon looks worried, but he doesn't protest. Just in case, I ask, “Is this alright?” and he nods.

I move slowly and press a tentative finger to his rim.

He gasps.

 

**Simon**

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

“Simon?”

I've closed my eyes. When did that happen?

“Simon?”

I swallow hard. “Uh, yeah. I'm-- I'm okay.”

“Do you need me to stop?”

“No,” I say quickly. “Just… give me a second.”

It doesn't feel bad per se. It's just cold is all. And a little weird. But after only a few seconds, I'm getting used to it.

“Be slow,” I whisper. He murmurs something in response, but I don't really hear it.

And then--

“Merlin!”

 

**Baz**

One finger. That's all. But he's gasping and writhing, and his thighs are quivering, spreading even farther in what I think is a subconscious motion. He's gripping the back of my neck like a lifeline, his other hand threatening to tear the sheets.

I pull out a bit and push in again.

“Baz!”

I would do anything to hear him say my name like that again.

I press my finger a little further, and he practically howls, nails scrabbling at my back.

“Baz! Baz, Baz, oh my god!” He's panting, face scrunched up in pleasure.

A thought hits me as I twist my finger inside him. If he's responding this well now, how is he going to act when I'm fucking him? The thought sends a shiver down my spine.

I press a second finger in, and he squirms, his legs flying further open. But this time when I push in, he hardly reacts. I frown.

“What happened? You were being so loud before.”

He peeks out of one eye. “I-- I dunno.” He's out of breath. “It was like… like you electrocuted me or something. But now the circuit's open.”

I huff. I finally manage to find something that makes him feel as good as I do when he's giving me head, and it's gone in seconds. Maybe I did something different when I added a finger.

I pull back and try to mirror what I did before.

“Baz!”

Okay. So what was different?

I try again, and he whines and hooks one leg over me. I pull my fingers nearly all the way back and slam them forward. A quiet grunt, but not anywhere near the usual response. What am I missing?

“A little to the left, please.”

The first thing I register is the “please,” which excites me more than it should. But then I replay the rest of it in my head. Left? I try it.

“Yes! There, there!”

_ Oh _ . I grin victoriously. I wasn't missing a technique, I was missing his prostate.

I grind my fingers into the spot, and he whines loudly, burying his face in my shoulder. I push in three fingers this time and aim with careful precision. He lets out a shaky gasp.

I start a punishing pace, slamming my fingers in just the right spot over and over. With every impact, he tenses more and more, screaming my name all the while.

After a full minute, he looks ready to cry, flushed and trembling.

“Please!” He squeals. “Touch me!”

I pull my fingers out.

He looks up at me like I've just told him he can never eat scones again. “Baz? What are you doing?”

“I'm sorry,” I sigh. “I got carried away. But I promise you can come soon.”

He pouts, and I think he really might cry.

“Besides, it'll probably feel even better if it's my cock instead of my fingers.”

His expression brightens significantly. “Oh?”

I smile weakly. “What do you say?”

 

**Simon**

“Yes,” I grin. “Of course.”

He kisses me, and I'm not so mad about him leaving my high and dry.

He sits up and reaches for his wand again. (How do Normals manage?)

“ **Better safe than sorry.** ”

I laugh. “Is that really necessary?”

He raises an eyebrow. “It's better safe than sorry for a reason, Simon.”

“Oh.” I laugh again. “Good point.”

He places a hand on my hip. “Let me know if you need me to stop,” he says quietly.

I nod. “I will.”

He casts one last spell. “ **Slippery as an eel.** ” This time, it's not his fingers he's slicking up. He sets his wand down.

“You really have everything figured out,” I breathe.

He smiles at me fondly. He'll deny it later. “I want this to be good for you.”

“It will be.”

He kisses me again. (I lost count a long time ago.)

He's still kissing me when I feel pressure at my rim. I do my best to relax, letting him take control. He pushes in slowly, and the slide feels nice.

His hands are in my hair again, of course, but he's not pulling, just like he's still moving so slow, I think because all of a sudden he's scared to break me. Normally, I'd complain. I'm not glass. I'll survive. But right now, I like being coddled. I like that he cares about me enough to be gentle with me. I might not need him to be quite so careful, but at least he cares. Maybe I'm not glass, but I'm not diamond either.

He bottoms out, and I sigh. He's warm, for once. Soft and hard all at once. It's not as mind blowingly good as when he was hitting that spot with his fingers, but it's good in a different way.

He starts moving, not as slow but still careful, and I reach up to brush a stray lock of hair behind his ear.

“Is this… good?” He asks. He's smiling, but I can see he's freaking out.

“It's fantastic,” I laugh. “You're fantastic. And I love you.”

He relaxes a little, the tension in his shoulders melting away. “I love you.”

The hand in my hair starts roaming, running over my body. He pinches one of my nipples, and I moan. Just as quickly, it's gone, moving with no clear pattern.

He starts speeding up, hips going from a slow roll to separate thrusts. Each one makes me gasp. After a little while, he ducks his head, his hair falling in front of his face like a curtain. He makes a little noise in the back of his throat, and it hits me that he's embarrassed.

“Baz, you don't have to hide your face, love. I want to see you.” I push his hair back again.

He's panting heavily, face flushed. He makes a strangled noise, whimpers, and tries again. “Simon…”

I press a kiss to his nose. “It's alright, love. You don't have to be quiet. I want to hear you. Tell me how you feel.”

His hips stutter, and his whine is high and needy.

“Is this good, Baz? Do you like this?”

His eyes are desperate, but he can't manage more than my name.

I kiss him.

 

**Baz**

Too much. Not enough. It's great. I think I'm dying.

Simon. All I can hold onto is his name, his name, his name.

Simon is warm. Simon is soft. Simon is tight and wet and perfect.

Simon is mine.

 

**Simon**

He's moaning now, openly. I think I've finally gotten through to him.

He's speeding up again, and in only a few seconds his hips are pistoning steadily. I dig my fingers into his scalp and biting my lip. I've never felt this way before.

He pulls back and pauses, eyebrows quirking upwards in concentration. He shifts his position, then slams his hips home.

I moan, tugging on his hair. I've gone electric again, and I never thought I'd want to be struck by lightning a second time this badly. He goes back to his impossibly fast pace, and every single thrust has me screaming. The charge is building in my gut. I wonder if it'll all explode out of me if he slams his hips into me just right.

He pulls closer to my body, and my cock is suddenly flush against his stomach. The friction is delicious. I can see wet streaks of precome where it drags against him.

“Baz!”

The word is thrown from my mouth, even though I have no memory of calling it out. He makes me so weak, so needy that I can't control my own body, until I'm screaming for him and scratching at his back and clenching around his cock without really being aware of any of it. I love how powerless I feel. I'm not just being struck by lightning, I'm getting destroyed by a natural disaster, a hurricane, an earthquake, a tsunami. He's so bloody powerful, it's making me lose my mind. I want to tell him to go ahead and sweep me up. I want to tell him to tear me apart. I want to surrender.

 

**Baz**

He's so beautiful. Bright pink lips, wide open, a bit of drool escaping. Blue eyes, clouded over by pleasure. He's screaming my name, over and over, chanting it like a mantra to keep him alive. I'm not sure he knows he's doing it.

He's clenching around me, making what was already so wonderfully tight even more amazing. I don't think I'll last much longer.

“Simon,” I moan.

He gasps, like hearing me say his name is a miracle.

“Simon, I-- I think--”

He grins, eyes still unfocused. “Yeah. Me too.”

I lean down and lick the drool off his face, and he whines.

I take his cock in my hand. He screams and writhes, and I'm surprised he doesn't come then and there. I do my best to keep up my thrusts, in time with each stroke. It's not perfect, but it's close.

“Baz!”

He's so fucking tight, all at once, and I can't help but join him. I'm thrown into white hot pleasure.

When I remember how to breathe, I'm laying on top of Simon. I can feel his chest rising and falling. We're both covered in his come. I could spell it away, but I don't really want to.

We lay there for a few minutes, silent except for our heavy breathing. Finally, I pull out and roll over onto my side. He follows suit, most likely so he can keep looking into my eyes.

“I love you,” he smiles.

I laugh and bury my face in his shoulder. “I love you more than anyone, Simon.”

He lifts a hand to my back, rubbing circles there. “You were amazing. I hope you know that.”

I'm smiling so much lately. I have a reputation to maintain. “You too. You're the best terrible boyfriend I could have ever asked for.”

 

**Simon**

Maybe we should have gone slow. Maybe we should have been whispering sweet nothings the whole time, or telling each other how much we love each other. Maybe we should have kept it innocent and quiet.

But I don't care. I wouldn't change a thing.

 


End file.
